


The Kamski Test

by tristinai



Series: Bad Decisions [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Extortion, Human AU, M/M, Manipulation, Past Relationship(s), Power Dynamics, Self-Harm, Sexual Assault, Violent Thoughts, gangster au, gangster!Kamski, gangster!Nines, reed900, references to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 06:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18277262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristinai/pseuds/tristinai
Summary: After the gruesome death of Murphy, Kamski puts Nines’ loyalty to the test.





	The Kamski Test

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to everyone waiting on the next part. It's been 'finished' since last week but since I am swamped with work, I am only half-way through the edit. In the meantime, here is another Nines POV scene. Please look over the tags and archive warning carefully before proceeding. Though this scene does not contain any rape, there is definitely non-consensual elements and I would much rather have potential readers skip this part than upset anyone if these themes are triggering for you.
> 
> Shout out to [NixObscura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NixObscura/pseuds/NixObscura) for encouraging me to post this. I had initially typed it for my own personal notes and shared it with her on a whim but she felt it would add more to the series if I posted it as part of the Gangster Verse. Thank you for supporting all the craziness I manage to type out <3
> 
> The next part should be up the following week, so long as work doesn't swallow me whole. That is a very real possibility XD

“You must have some sense as to why I have called you here.”

 

Irritation has Nines clenching his hands at his sides, though his expression remains placid. He stands, posture stiff, cool gaze staring ahead and watches, carefully, as Elijah takes a calculated sip of his brandy. Detroit’s drug King Pin has hardly looked at him since Chloe ushered Nines in here, the crime lord gazing through the tinted glass window down at the street below. It’s all posturing, meant to drop Nines’ guard, but he knows Kamski well-enough that he’s not about to walk head first into the hungry lion’s den.

 

_Too late_ , he thinks, when Kamski’s blue eyes finally regard him.

 

An answer. That is what he’s expecting.

 

“I was...sloppy,” Nines begins, his lips pulling tightly as he says that word. His admission means he’s owning up to a mistake. And Nines **never** makes mistakes. “I may have gotten a bit overzealous.”

 

“A bit?” Kamski frowns. “Open the tablet.”

 

The clipped command has Nines stoically walking towards the desk. As his hand reaches for the device on the dark surface of the oak desk, he sees the deep, red crescents in his palm. A habit he developed years ago, when Kamski made it clear he had no patience for Nines’ temper. Any time Nines wants to snap at his employer, he presses into his skin until the urge passes.

 

Unlocking the screen, he stares down at the image left open.

 

“What do you see?”

 

The condescending tone leaves something white hot curling in Nines’ chest. But he maintains his composure, answers evenly, “It appears to be an image of forensic samples from a crime scene.”

 

“You must have misunderstood my question: I am not asking what it _is_ but what do you _see_?”

 

Nines tenses. “Evidence I left behind.”

 

Kamski finishes the rest of his brandy, the ice clinking in the glass. On the rocks. He must be in a mood since he rarely takes it that way. Nines has had years to learn all the warning signs for Kamski’s temper, though it’s usually someone else on the receiving end. More often than not, Nines is on the other side of this desk, with Elijah, watching his cool demeanor slowly unravel as he berates someone for their failure.

 

“The only reason the DPD hasn’t issued an APB on you is because the former Detective Collins ‘mishandled’ the two samples connecting you to the scene,” Kamski says. And though he’s the picture of control, there’s an almost imperceptible edge to his voice. “As you can imagine, both Lieutenant and Captain Anderson became suspicious and have since let the detective go.”

 

He sets the tumbler down hard, the sound echoing ominously in the space between them. Nines doesn’t flinch, needing far more to catch him off guard. There’s a dangerous glint in Kamski’s eyes that Nines doesn’t quite trust.

 

“I lost one of the few sets of eyes I have left at that precinct. And the best you can give me is you had gotten a bit ‘overzealous’. Come now, Nines: I know you can do better than that.”

 

His gaze is cooler than ice as he meets Kamski’s. His tone may be controlled but inside, there’s a raging fire as he remembers the sight of Gavin lying, body broken and face heavily bruised, in that hospital bed. Not even Murphy’s screams of pain had been able to sate the desire to make this world burn for the cruelty it had allowed to befall Gavin.

 

“I had failed to confirm the problem had been appropriately dealt with the first time,” Nines admits. “Given Murphy’s response, I felt it only fitting that his punishment reflect the severity of his actions. This will send a clear message that you own the streets of Detroit.”

 

The tumbler goes flying past his face, crashing into the wall behind him, faster than Nines can blink. There’s no scowl on Kamski’s face, no visible sign that he’s lost his temper, besides the shattered glass raining on the pristine linoleum floor behind them.

 

And this is precisely what makes Kamski so terrifying: even the ‘loss’ of his control is calculated, meant to make the most hardened criminals piss themselves as they fall to their knees and utter every sniveling apology they can think of.

 

Nines, however, is not like everyone else.

 

“I hardly see how painting the walls is his blood works to my benefit,” Elijah says, only the hint of irritation lacing his voice. He stares down his nose at Nines, as if he’s reprimanding a young child, and Nines feels the pressure of his nails pierce the skin of his palms. “I am a business man. I expect any business I _terminate_ to be dealt with cleanly and efficiently. I thought this was behavior we had corrected years ago, Nines.”

 

And Nines can’t be sure what he hates more: that he has to acknowledge his mistake or that Kamski is treating him like he’s a fucking child. So he says nothing, not quite trusting himself to not say the wrong thing.

 

“Perhaps...it’s this assignment you’ve been given,” Kamski says. “I appreciate your dedication to your task. Yet, I can’t help but question where your loyalties lie.”

 

He rounds the desk, his gaze predatory as he slowly circles Nines. He’s looking for a sign of weakness, a point of attack, but Kamski’s often already two steps ahead. It’s only a matter of waiting until his prey takes the bait.

 

“You have nothing to concern yourself with,” Nines answers, automatically. “I am well aware of and have done what is expected of me.”

 

“...you’ve never slept with a target before.”

 

Nines frowns. “...it seemed the best course of action, to lower Detective Reed’s guard.”

 

Kamski stops. “And my relation to your task has nothing to do with your decision to engage in a sexual affair with him?”

 

Nines’ jaw tightens.

 

“I am uncertain of what answer you expect me to give,” he says, careful to keep his voice neutral. Skin cracks beneath his fingertips. “Detective Reed is nothing more than an assignment, one I have successfully made complacent. He is no longer a concern to us in the DPD’s ongoing investigation.”

 

Kamski’s smile is cold. “You’re right. Now that he’s no longer a concern, you should have no problem terminating the relationship.”

 

And Nines freezes, dread settling over him like a cold wave as if he’s being pulled into its icy depths, unable to breathe. Because the thought of letting Gavin go makes him feel worse than drowning.

 

_Anything_ , he thinks, _ask me to do anything except that._

 

It’s all it takes for the first cracks in his armor to show: whatever Kamski sees on Nines’ face has the drug lord smirking.

 

“But...it would be counter-productive to have a scorned lover working within the precinct actively trying to bring us down,” Kamski muses. “It seems allowing this ‘sham’ of an affair to continue may be in both our interests.”

 

Nines wants to release the breath he’s holding but he guesses, all too easily, that Kamski isn’t quite done.

 

“No. There are other ways you can prove your loyalty.”

 

And he leans in close, his lips tickling the edge of Nines’ ear. There’s a familiarity to the gesture that leaves a sick sensation sinking to the bottom of Nines’ chest as Kamski quietly commands, “On your knees.”

 

Nines complies, his body quivering with barely contained anger. He feels his cheeks flush in humiliation, struggles to keep his lips from pulling in a scowl. The amusement in Kamski’s bright, blue eyes as he looks down on his obedient ‘attack dog’ has that cold feeling numbing Nines to his core.

 

“I could subject you to the infamous ‘Kamski Test’. Yet neither outcome is one I would desire,” Kamski muses aloud.

 

Nines has only seen it performed twice, Kamski reserving it for those who have really gotten under his skin. As a test of loyalty, the offender is given a magnum and a choice: shoot the person they love, proving that their dedication to Kamski outweighs their emotional bonds to another person. Or, shoot them self, if they are unable to bring harm to a loved one. Both times, Nines ended up burying a dead lover.

 

“You, my dear Nines, are going to apply a skill of yours I have not seen in action for quite some time,” Kamski says. He traces his thumb over Nines’ bottom lip and though every part of his being is screaming for this to stop, the gangster merely stares up with forced tranquility. “Suck my cock.”

 

_No_

 

The word resounds so loudly in his head, it nearly startles him. The thought of submitting himself to the twisted whims of his employer makes Nines feel nauseous, his skin crawl at how easily he had once done this, how he’s let the absolute power Kamski lords over him dictate his actions in the past. A younger version of himself had given in eagerly, wishing to please his handsome savior who had rescued him from a life of otherwise dealing or whoring himself on the grimy streets of Detroit. Now, the thought of ever touching Kamski again like that makes Nines want to vomit.

 

He then does the one thing he knows he shouldn’t: he _hesitates._

 

“You expressed interest in separating business from pleasure some years ago.”

 

Kamski frowns. And though he lovingly tilts Nines’ chin up, the gangster knows that was the wrong thing to say. “This isn’t pleasure: this is business. I am measuring your dedication to what we have established. All I am asking is for one simple act of loyalty.”

 

The words are lodged in Nines’ throat and he can’t bring himself to say them. He thinks of Gavin shaking in his arms, mumbling an incoherent mess of whatever images had plagued his sleep, clinging to Nines as if Nines is the only one who can save him from his own head. And Nines can’t feel the least big sorry for what he did, even if it’s brought him to this point: he’d torture and kill Murphy a thousand times over if it would give Gavin one night of undisturbed sleep.

 

“It isn’t that complicated, Nines. Unless...you have a reason to refuse my order.”

 

He has many reasons he wants to be saying _No_. But Nines knows better.

 

Long, pale fingers reach for the drug lord’s leather belt and Nines is swallowing the bile that’s in his throat, the absolute shame that makes each tense moment press down on him like there’s a weight sitting on his diaphragm. Eye level with Kamski’s crotch, he sees the other man is already half-hard but he’s not foolish enough to believe that Kamski finds him attractive: Kamski’s attracted to the power he has over everyone else and nothing gets him up faster than submission.

 

Trembling fingers pull the belt from the buckle and Nines can’t help but think of how disgusted Gavin would be if he could see Nines now, how utterly weak and pathetic Kamski can make the gangster at the snap of his fingers. Nines has to force himself to stop thinking of _Gavin_ because, for once in his life, it’s not just his anger with himself that’s making him want to be ill, but the guilt of knowing what this would do to him should Gavin ever find out.

 

But Nines knows that if he _stops_ , Kamski has the power to not only ruin Nines’ life but the life of someone else, of the other man who was there _that night_ and is as knee-deep in the shit Kamski got him out of. And Nines may feel many things towards his brother but he cannot do that to Connor.

 

Pulling down the zipper of Kamski’s pants, Nines’ fingers hesitantly trace the outline of his cock through the rich material of his underwear. Shamefully, he can’t help but think of the cheap fabric of Gavin’s undergarments, how if he was with the detective, he would get hard as his fingers brush over the dark, familiar cotton and Gavin inhales sharply, his fingers lacing through locks of the gangster’s hair.

 

There would be warmth and affection in his lust-blown eyes, not the cool and distant interest Kamski regards Nines with.

 

Just as Nine’ fingertips slip beneath the fabric, Kamski’s voice cuts through the air.

 

“Enough.”

 

Nines’ hands drop to his sides.

 

Those eyes are still watching him, quiet, calculating. Nines presses his nails into his palms.

 

After a moment, Kamski adds, “You’ve proven your point. There are some parts of our past that are best not revisited.”

 

Nines clenches his jaw. He wants nothing more than to stand to his full height, use those few extra inches he has to glare down at Kamski and tell him exactly what he thinks of this abuse of power, how it’s incredibly unnecessary because Nines knows exactly _how_ he feels but that will never keep him from doing what he _needs_ to.

 

But Nines also knows that if he was in Kamski’s shoes, he’d do the exact same thing.

 

There’s a gentle knock on the door before Kamski’s assistant, Chloe, steps into the room. Nines’ fingertips dig harder into his skin at being caught on his knees like some junkie willing to do anything for their next hit but she seems completely unfazed by what she’s walked in on.

 

“Mr. Kamski, your 3 o’clock is in the conference room,” she informs Elijah, not even looking at Nines.

 

“Tell him I’ll be a moment,” Kamski answers, zipping up and buckling his pants. The sound of it makes Nines’ flush creep down his neck. “Oh, and Chloe? Send someone to clean up this mess.”

 

She leaves and closes the door quietly behind her. Without her presence, the entirety of Kamski’s focus is on Nines. He takes Nines’ chin and, unlike before, his grip is bruising, fingers pressing hard into the skin. Leaning down, there’s a hard edge to his voice as he says, calmly and coldly, “Never forget _who_ owns you.”

 

And he releases Nines, turning on his heels and exiting the room. For a while, Nines remains on his knees, every malicious and vile thought raging through his mind, nails pressing and pressing each time he indulges his sick fantasies of what he would do to Kamski if it was within his power. He’s back in that room but this time, it’s no longer Murphy in that chair but Elijah, screaming every time Nines peels away another layer of flesh, begging when Nines crudely removes parts of his hand knuckle-by-knuckle.

 

By the time Nines can bury those violent urges, his palms are covered in blood.


End file.
